Into the Abyss
by kiwiskreationz
Summary: 83 years after the Battle for Erebor, Din might finally have a chance to bring Thorin back from the Abyss that has kept him from her. But will they bring something else back in the process? Sequel to my story "Gold Burns Red". There will possibly be another pairing later, but I have not decided. ;)
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

 _TA 3023, Erebor, The Lonely Mountain_

 _83 years after the Battle for Erebor, Four years after the War of the Ring_

Din finished strapping on her guardsman armor, fastening the last buckle of her mantle. Just in time for a knock at her door. Her rooms, designated for whatever Guard Captain was in position, were small. Basically just a decent sized bedroom with an adjoining kitchen and toilet room. It had taken a lot of fixing up after its last occupant, former Guard Captain Dothin. He'd been a slob and had somehow managed to damage each piece of furniture, probably just from the strain of holding his considerable weight. She'd decorated a little, hanging a few paintings of faraway places like Minas Tirath and Rivendell. The only decore on her desk was a small hand drawn portrait of Thorin that Fili had paid someone to draw up just for her. It sat at the side of the desk in a little frame inscribed with his name in Khuzdul, along with "Menu tessu"; "You are everything."

She crossed the short distance of the room to the door and pulled it open. She found Lady Belmaena in a regal lavender dress, wringing her hands together. Her blond hair was woven into intricate braids atop her head and looked rather heavy. Din fixed the lady with suspicion. "What's Fili done, now?" she quipped. Maena chortled.

"No, no, it's not Fili," she said in her strong Erid Luin accent. Even after all these years, it hadn't faded. Din's had a bit after her time with humans during the War of the Ring, but occasionally it reared it's large head while she was scolding recruits or during gatherings with her family, Maena included. She had known Fili during their extensive time there, and when Erebor was reclaimed she had convinced her family to relocate in hopes of finding him. Funny; He'd never mentioned Maena to Din, but he seemed taken with her as soon as she arrived. Perhaps he had thought Din would tease him mercilessly about it. He wasn't wrong. Din was glad he had had someone to help him grieve for his brother and uncle, especially since he'd gotten saddled with so much responsibility very quickly. Thorin's death had meant Fili's coronation as king.

Maena strode past Din, still wringing her hands, but her royal guards waited in the hallway, standing at strict attention. "At ease," Din told them before closing the door for privacy. "It's about Kili, actually. He's gotten it into his head that he wants to become a soldier. I think he feels like he has to prove himself. Live up to his name or somethin'. His sister and I have tried to talk him out of it, but he won't listen to us like he does you. I know he looks up to you, he's always goin' on about your adventures. Could you talk to him again? He's my only son and I can't bare to lose him if anythin' should happen."

"Of course I can talk to him, but I can't promise anything. You know he's just as stubborn as that husband of yours." Only a truly stubborn dwarf would have insisted that a dwarf-woman become Captain of the Guard, despite the murmuring and scandal it had caused. Even after two years Din still couldn't believe how hard he had fought for her rank.

Maena beamed in relief, her green eyes practically shining. "Oh, thank Mahal. Just knowing you'll try eases my anxiety. If there's anythin' you need me to do, just ask." Din smiled.

"Of course, _Athanu men_."

"I've asked you not to call me that," Maena protested. Din laughed.

"That's exactly _why_ I call you that. I'll find Kili before I start my post."

"He was in our family rooms before I left not too long ago," Maena said. Din nodded and strode from the room to begin the long trek to the royal quarters. Maena decided to venture elsewhere while Din spoke to him, probably so he wouldn't feel like he was being outnumbered. Another pair of guards stood outside the double-doors of Fili's family rooms. They saluted her approach, which she returned before knocking on the door. Fili had no policy of sending word before a visit, as was generally custom. He even opened the door himself, rather than have a servant do it for him.

" _Vemu, Thanu men,_ " Din greeted.

"Din!" Fili clomped forward to hug her. The guards barely noticed anymore. "I'm glad you're here, I want to show you something." Fili pulled her into the large room. A fire crackled in the wide fireplace, casting an orange glow about the well-furnished space. An elaborate rug, spun in Dale as a gift to him many years ago, added a brightness to the main room with it's many colors. The stonework chairs were adorned with lush pillows the dwarf-women had sewn. Meana's large collection of books sat in bookshelves along the wall on either side of the fireplace. Fili strode to a trophy plinth hanging from the wall near the dining table and pulled the bow from it; the bow Kili had wielded during the Battle for Erebor. He held it out for Din to look at.

"I've already seen that," Din said.

"I know, but with Kili's 80th birthday approaching, I was thinking about giving it to him. I know he's still young, but I want him to have it. What do you think?"

"I think it would be a fine gift. It would make him very happy, indeed," Din admitted. But it would also be counter productive to Maena's desire to dissuade Kili from trying to make a name for himself as a soldier. "I was actually looking for Kili."

Fili sighed and turned to return the bow to its display. "He left several minutes ago. Has Maena been to talk to you again? I know she worries, but we can't keep Kili cooped up in this mountain forever, no matter how she wishes him to stay safe and no matter how much he reminds _you_ of my brother."

Din crossed her arms across her chest defensively. "That's not fair, Fili," she growled.

"I know you feel guilty about what happened; I still feel the same. He was my little brother and when he needed me the most, I wasn't there. But we can't punish my son for it. We're dwarves, not men. We don't coddle our lads to keep them safe, not even if they're royalty."

"Then tell me; What if something _were_ to happen to him? You know Maena can't have anymore children. You've tried for a long time. And Dís wouldn't be able to become queen. People may have accepted me, however begrudgingly, as Guard Captain upon your behest, but not even you could convince the masses to accept your daughter as ruler after you step down."

Fili growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. "If the worst should happen, the line would fall to Dáin's son. I will not refuse my son the right to fight for his kingdom. You, of all people, should understand wanting to defend his home. If you recall, none of us were all too pleased with Thorin giving you permission to accompany us to Erebor." He had her there and he knew it. She inhaled irately.

"I should get to my post." She turned on her heel and marched from the room. He was right. She wanted to protect his son because she had failed to save Kili. It still killed her that, after saving his life numerous times,protecting him all his life, she still lost him in the end. And then there was Thorin. Kili II was his great-nephew. She couldn't fail Thorin again either. But could she really tell Kili, a boy who had always looked up to and idolized her, not to follow in her footsteps just because he had the misfortune of reminding her of someone she lost?

She contemplated heavily as she ventured to the main gate, passing the store rooms on her way. A pair of her guards were standing outside the door. It was the easiest post in the hold and she knew her men liked to sneak inside and sneak a little food when no one was around. Regardless, she never had her men do single watches to reduce the chance of incident and prevent any of them getting jumped while they were by themselves. Injuries were down by half from when she started, so she had to be doing something right. That didn't stop some of her guards from gossiping, though.

"How do we keep getting saddled with such dull posts?" Rongal muttered when he thought she was out of earshot, oblivious to how well the halls echoed.

"What do you mean?" Was Jorn's—one of the newer recruits—response.

"It's like she doesn't think we can handle it. Ever since she got back from that war, she thinks she's higher than all of us. A bloody lass! Did she even do anything in that war?"

"That's harsh. She's a legend! And I don't mind paying my dues."

Rongal scoffed. "Trust me, lad, the only place a lass belongs is beneath you, if you catch my meaning." Any other day, Din would have ignored him, but her patience had already worn thin. She spun and strutted over, more than pleased to wield her authority in his face.

"Guardsman Rongal," she addressed the older sod. Jorn straightened into a rigid pole, visibly sweating. Rongal straightened as well, but was scowling at having been caught. "If you think this post is below you, then I would be happy to reassign you. Find Torik outside the stables and switch with him. I'm sure he will be more than happy to come in out of the cold and will certainly be pleased to be away from the stink. You know how horses can be."

Rongal was frowning with such fervor that he must have been imagining the stench. "Yes, Ser," he grumbled before clomping off.

Din tipped her head to the younger guard and grinned. "Gooday Guardsman Jorn." The lad blinked in bafflement but nodded as well. She resumed her trek to her own post at the main gate and climbed up to the wall and found old Orthis with one of the other newer guards, Relin. "Alright, Guardsman Orthis, you're relieved."

"Thank the Maker. Good luck with this one, Guard Captain. One more ridiculous question and I might've thrown him over the rampart," Orthis growled as he stomped past her. Relin grimaced and stood at strict attention. Din chuckled.

"At ease, Guardsman, it's alright. I think Orthis's beard is just braided too tightly."

"I heard that," Orthis barked down below.

"Well, I said it loudly," She hollered back. She faced forward, gazing out at the expansive field that separated Erebor from the bustling city of Dale, elevated in the mountainous landscape in the distance. After Smaug's death, Bard had helped organise the repairing of the ruins. It had taken years and years to get it completely fixed up, but was now a city of commerce and trade once again. "Anything to report?" Din asked.

"Nothing, Ser," Relin replied. Din nodded and pulled a most familiar glowing stone from her pocket. The Silmaril had bound to her when she was young and had been a reliable companion these long years. It's white-blue light was easy to see even in the blazing sun. She held it high and released three brilliant flashes from it. Then she looked to Dale, watching its walls until a small flash of light was bounced off a guard's shield; Their signal that everything was fine there, as well. Din smiled and returned the Silmaril to her pocket.

* * *

The door to Din's quarters closed loudly and the latch slid into place. She pulled her platemail over her head as she moved exhaustedly to the bed and let the heavy thing drop to the stone floor with a clatter. When she unbuckled her arm guards and greaves she could see sweat marks on her shirt and trousers where the leather had kept the fabric pressed to her perspirating body. She dropped the pieces to the floor as well and flopped backward onto her bed so that her legs still dangled over the side, her long dark chocolate hair fanning out over the blanket. Letting her eyes fall closed, she took a deep breath.

A chuckle in the room put her at full alert. She reached under her pillow and retrieved a throwing dagger and threw it in the direction of the laugh. The elf sitting at her desk caught the dagger before it could impale his face and his hazel eyes flashed with further amusement. He laughed again. His mouse brown hair draped around his shoulders, which were clad in a simple elven robe rather than the intricate battle armor she was accustomed to.

"Arthenon." Din gaped in surprise. It had been a good three years since she had last seen him. "What are you doing here?"

"Is that how you greet an old friend?"

Din couldn't help laughing. When they'd met in Mirkwood, she never would have considered calling him a friend, but after all these years she supposed it was the only thing she could call him. After witnessing the bond that the Silmaril had formed with her, he had abandoned his quest to reclaim it. He now kept her informed on what the rest of Faenor's clan was up to. During the War of the Ring, they had caught her scent and he had even traveled with them just in case they found her. When they did, he had helped her kill them. He had convinced her to burn him as well to so that his cover was still intact with the rest of them. The expansive scar tissue was hidden beneath his tunic and a leather glove on his left hand.

"I apologize," Din said with a smile.

"For a moment I was afraid you were going to undress completely before even noticing me. For a Guard Captain, your skills of observation could use a little work."

Din squinted her eyes amusedly at him. "I don't usually expect to find someone else in _my_ quarters." She rearranged herself on the bed so she was facing him and tucked her feet beneath herself. "How've you been?" An unsettled look crossed the elf's features and he stood to analyze what meager decorations she had placed about the room.

"I'm not sure."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been getting strange reports from the others. I'll hear about an incident through the vine where someone was nearly exposed or some such business, but all of the official reports tell me there's nothing to report."

"Could it be that they feel the incidents aren't pertinent to you?" Din stood and walked over to him. He crossed his arms over his chest, but didn't turn to look at her.

"It's possible, but I still don't like it. My gut or intuition or whatever you want to call it is telling me that I'm being intentionally excluded."

Din frowned in consideration. Could his cover not be as secure as they'd thought? The other Noldor could have pieced together his involvement and were just waiting for the right opportunity to use it against him. If that were the case, he would be in dire danger. "If you're not safe, then you should stay here."

Arthenon shook his head and finally turned to her. "They can sense me just as I can them. The longer I'm here, the more I put you at risk of being found. I will not bring them to your door." He placed his hands on her shoulders and offered his usual sarcastic smirk. "Don't worry, dwarf. I'm more skilled than any of them. I'll still be back to torment you when it's safe. I just wanted you to know." Din tried to smile back, but was far less certain than he. He removed his hands from her shoulders and stepped back as a gust of wind began to swirl around him, blowing his hair about. He closed his eyes as it picked up and he disappeared. It died down and Din was alone with her worries in the silent room.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Din stirred restlessly in bed, both unable and unwilling to return to sleep, even though she knew she needed rest. She was having dreams of Thorin again; That he was trapped in a dreary snow-covered wasteland and constantly fighting for his life against all sorts of horrific monsters. After 83 years, one would expect her not to feel guilty anymore, but she was often plagued with these dreams as if her mind were dead-set on tormenting her with her failings. After rolling from one side to the other a dozen times and being unable to quiet her mind, she rose from bed and decided to use her restlessness to exercise. This was her routine, now, whenever it became a problem; Relentless, exhausting exercise that made her body scream for her to stop. But she couldn't rest until the anxiety stopped eating at her stomach, until she was too sore to think about it. She slumped against the floor, her drained mind finally allowing her to drift back into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

"Aunt Din, wake up." Din returned to groggy consciousness when someone shook her.

"What do you want, Kili?" she grumbled. She lifted a hand to rub her tired eyes, making no move to rise from the uncomfortable floor.

"Trouble sleeping again? You know it's not healthy to work yourself this hard when you can't sleep." She mumbled something noncommittal as he helped her stand and lead her to the bed. She propped her feet up on the frame and sat with her head in her hands. It would be a struggle to stay awake during duty, that was certain. "I found this under your door." Kili held out a small flattened scroll, unmarked with any signature or wax stamp of identification. Who could it be from? She accepted it and set it on the nightstand, resigned to find out when she did not have company.

"Was there something you needed?" Din asked the lad.

Kili shifted on his feet. He looked a lot like his namesake except that he had inherited his father's flaxen hair and his mother's green eyes. He had never been a trickster like his father and uncle but rather seemed to take more after his mother. "I, uh . . ." He breathed a sigh and straightened himself, ready to be forthwith. "I can understand Mother wanting me to stay, but why did _you_ tell my father not to let me join our forces?"

Din gaped. "H-he told you?"

"Of course he told me. I've looked up to you my entire life, always asking to hear about your journeys. Now you're the one keeping me from finding my own."

"I'm only worried after your safety, Kili. You're still young. There will be plenty of time to make a name for yourself later."

Kili's brows crinkled together in anger. "This isn't even about me, it's about _him_ isn't it? Eighty-three years later and you're still trying to save him. But _he's gone,_ Aunt Din. Uncle Kili is gone. And while you're stuck in the past trying to protect him, you're keeping me from making a life of my own. But it didn't work. Father has already given me permission to go." Din gasped, her eyes widened. It was done then? He was to become a soldier and fight what orcs remained in Middle Earth? Kili strode to the door but paused in the frame. "I always hoped you would support me. I idolized you . . ." she heard him say quietly before he disappeared.

The dwarf lass sat in silence for a long time. He was right about all of it. It was unfair to protect Kili so strictly just because he reminded her of his namesake. But that didn't stop the tight ball of dread from forming in her stomach at the thought of young Kili in battle. Perhaps it was time to bow out and stop meddling in Fili's affairs.

Now that she was alone, she plucked the letter from her nightstand and her idle curiosity turned into shock. She gasped in surprise. It was Gandalf asking for a secret meeting. She hadn't even been aware that he was coming. Then again, that was probably why he was asking for a _secret_ meeting.

* * *

Din stepped cautiously into the tomb. It had been a long time since she had come down here. A very long time. She held the Silmaril out, letting its light illuminate the room. A second source of light ignited from a staff to the left of King Thorin's crypt. The wizard's grey-blue eyes shone bright in the white light.

"Why did you want me to meet you here, Gandalf?" She asked.

The wizard looked down at the crypt, his fingers tapping nervously against his white staff, searching for the words to begin. "I do not believe he is truly dead."

Din clenched her fingers into fists. "Why in the name of Durin would you make such a claim after so many years. I was there when he died, Gandalf. You know that." She turned to leave, boiling with anger, but guilt settled in her gut. "I know you mean well, but no good can come from digging up such old wounds." She started to march out when the loud rumble of stone sliding against stone filled the room. Din turned to see the large slab atop Thorin's sarcophagus slide off from the force of one of Gandalf's spells.

" _What are you doing?_ " She cried out in outrage as she bolted back over. Gandalf simply stared inside and she couldn't help looking as well, even though she knew it would horrify her to see Thorin's bones. But it was not his bones that she found. She gasped and gaped like a fool. Thorin's body remained unchanged. No, not unchanged. His skin was a colorless grey and his wounds were gone, replaced with scars as if he had simply healed over time. His hands were cupped on his chest, where the Arkenstone rested, glowing faintly. Other than Bilbo, no one outside the dwarves knew it had been buried with him. "What . . ." She could find no more words.

"Do you see the similarities?" Gandalf asked.

"Between what?" Din sputtered. The old man's glance slid to the glowing stone in her hand and she felt her eyes widen. She looked between it and the Arkenstone. It was similar, yes, but the Arkenstone shone with many colors and glittered due to a thousand small straight-edged facets. Her's was only a pale white-blue and the surface was smooth as if the flame it represented had smoothed its edges into glass.

"You think the Arkenstone is one of the Silmarils?"

"Not only that. I think it is bound to him the way yours is to you. Yours bonded with you when you were willing to sacrifice your own life to save Kili's when you were children. I believe the same thing happened when Thorin sacrificed himself for you at Erebor."

Din closed her eyes, trying to wrap her mind around this and failing in her attempt not to picture the sadness on Thorin's face when he had realized the only way to save her from Azog would be to leave her. "But how could he be alive?" Din asked. The pessimist in her balked. Surely that was too easy, too fortunate.

"It is more as if he sleeps rather than death; A stasis that sustains his body until his soul can be returned to it. I believe the stone stored his soul somewhere else."

Din could not pull her gaze from Thorin's still face. Despite the little voice inside her, she dared to hope, to imagine those blue eyes opening and looking on her once more. "If he truly slumbers, then we can wake him."

"It won't be easy. Only assuming what I have learned is even correct, I cannot guarantee your return from the Void."

"The Void?" Din frowned. He wanted to send her to hell?

"It is a place where all evil beings are sent after death, as they are not permitted in the afterlife, whatever that may be. I believe the Arkenstone sent Thorin there because it was the only place to put him. The only way to bring him back is to help him find what will probably be a copy of the Arkenstone that anchors him to that place. Once inside, you will also have to find your own stone."

"Find two small stones in a void of darkness. How difficult could that be?"

"It will be a challenge, to be sure, but you will have all the time you need. I found a spell that may be able to pull your soul from your body and send you there."

"May?"

A grim frown contorted Gandalf's face in a web of wrinkles. "I'm afraid no part of this comes without great danger to you. Know that if you die there, I suspect your body here will die as well rather than return your soul to it."

The risk didn't change her mind. "What do we need to do?" the lass asked.

Gandalf's grasp of his staff tightened. Was he nervous now that she had agreed? He cleared his throat. "You'll want to lie down." She nodded and lowered herself to the cold stone beside Thorin's sarcophagus. Before the old man could ask if she had it, she pulled her Silmaril from her pocket and grasped it firmly in her nervously sweating hands. Gandalf stooped and pressed chilled fingers to her forehead.

"Tell my uncles and everyone . . . I'm sorry if I do not come back."

Gandalf nodded solemnly. "This will be most unpleasant. I am sorry." She gave another stiff nod and after he filled his lungs with a deep breath, he began his incantation. There was a pause while the spell took effect. Then a pressure built in her chest as if a mountain were being pressed down on it. Din's body tensed and she could make no attempt to even gasp for air as her lungs seemed to have no room to expand. It didn't take more than a minute, but it felt like an hour before the world finally began to fade away.

* * *

White flakes clung to her eyelashes when Din pried her brown eyes open. She was on the ground, face-first in what looked like an endless vast of snow. Dark grey skies as far as the eye could see sent a flurry of snow. Did it ever cease, she wondered? Slowly, she pushed herself up to a seated position feeling unbelievably stiff. Grief welled inside her as she peered around a place she hadn't thought to be real. This was what she had been dreaming about all these years. She could have come sooner if she had only thought to look. The creatures he was always fighting were the dispatched souls of evil creatures slain on Middle-Earth. Din slumped further into the snow and felt her face contort to shed the tears she felt building behind her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Thorin," she sobbed. Through her blurred vision in the far off distance she thought she caught glimpse of a figure approaching. She staggered to her feet. There was no way he had already found her, was there? She had almost dared to hope when another figure appeared further back, then another and another until a horde was sprinting across the snow toward her. Not Thorin. Orcs. How had they known she had arrived? She wondered in horror. She looked around wildly for anything she could use as a weapon, but of course there was nothing but snow. She turned to run the other way—if she couldn't fight them, maybe she could outrun them and hope they gave up—but more dark figures approached from other angles. She picked the side with the fewest and bolted.

When she neared the first monstrosity, its grotesque face contorting in unquenchable rage, she ducked under the unplanned swing of its crazed sword and disarmed it with a palm to the elbow to reverse it. She then lobbed off its head and returned her attention to the nearest approaching half dozen orcs. As she readied herself, the jagged blade in her hand began to glow white hot. She gaped. She could still use the Silmaril's power here? Perhaps the fact that it remained with her body was enough? Regardless, this fight had just gotten a lot simpler. She'd picked up some new tricks during the War of the Ring and unlike any of the battles she had been in, there was no one she had to worry about accidentally hurting. It was time to heat up this winter-held wasteland.

Din let the sword fall to the snow and gathered her magic within her. She crouched to one knee with her hands above her head, building a ball of fire. She kept it compressed even as it tried to grow and allowed the pressure to build so that as many of the orcs as possible would get near. Only when one was almost within arm's reach did she release the flame. A torrent of fire erupted like a horizontal powder bomb that killed any orc within over ten yards. She turned to the next largest group and began sprinting for them, then crouched as if she were about to leap. Streams of fire from the bottoms of her feet launched her into the air. She readied another bomb while she soared over many ugly heads, their eyes following her in bafflement. The orcs directly below her readied their blades to impale her when she came down, but with a thrust of her legs another plume of fire enveloped them. She kicked one out of her way so she could land on the ground while it flailed helplessly at the flames that clung to it. She then released the other fireball she had been compressing. Twenty more orcs fell and those that weren't dying started to flee through the massive puddle her fire had melted the snow into. Only once she was certain that none would double back for her did she stoop to rest her hands on her knees to catch her breath.

Footprints rippled into the water and she whirled on the enemy with hand poised to incinerate but her breath caught and her eyes widened. She would recognize that curtain of dark hair anywhere and the pale blue eyes that bore into hers made it impossible to move. Sweat had smeared blood down the sides of his face and the orcish armor he wore was badly damaged from constant battle. Orcrist in his hand, which glowed blue at the approach of orcs or goblins, was beginning to fade as the orcs fled further away.

Thorin seemed just as unable to move. "It _is_ you!" he gasped. "Din . . ." Of all the things she felt upon seeing the love of her life—joy, love, guilt—none surprised her more than her embarrassment. It _had_ , after all, been 83 years since last he had seen her and she had aged while he still looked as handsome as ever. She tucked her hair nervously behind one ear despite the counterproductive fact that this better revealed the laugh lines beside her eyes. Unable to look at him while he took in her appearance, she looked to the ground. After a pause he dropped Orcrist and a helmet she hadn't realized he had been holding and strode over to her. She looked up in time for his lips to meet hers in a passionate kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

They kissed for a long time, enjoying each others' warmth. To her surprise, she had grown somewhat taller during his absence which made the task a little simpler. But reality eventually caught up with her and she pulled back. He was about to bridge the gap between them again when he noticed the tears in her eyes. He faltered. His fingers twitched in the air where he had been about to reach for her.

"I can't . . ." Was all she could get out. She could not yet forgive herself for leaving him to this dreadful place all this time.

A question that Thorin did not want to ask appeared behind his eyes, but he asked anyway. "How long has it been?"

"Eighty-three years. Gandalf learned you might be here so he sent me to get you out."

Protective anger flashed across his face. "Why would he send you? How are we supposed to get out?"

"We need to find my Silmaril and your Arkenstone. It bound to you as mine did to me and it preserved you in this place to keep you from death."

Thorin's breathing became more intense as he processed what this meant. "I want nothing to do with that cursed stone."

"I know." Her lip quivered with sympathy for his plight, for the terror the Arkenstone now undoubtedly held for him. "Perhaps it will be different now? You conquered that part of yourself before," she offered meekly. He pressed a gloved hand over his eyes and rubbed them exhaustedly. She was content to let him ponder to himself until she caught glimpse of something approaching in the close distance behind him. "Thorin, how did you know I was here?" She asked.

"A pillar of light shot into the sky and I came to find out what it was. I guess the orcs had the same notion."

Din stooped to pull a blade from the grip of a dead orc and pulled the leather sheath, however burnt, off as well. It didn't break when she tied it around her waist, so that was what mattered. "We need to move. They'll keep coming." Thorin turned to find what she had seen and muttered a dwarven expletive. "What is it?" she asked. Only then did she realize that the form wasn't closer than the orcs had been, it was just much bigger.

"Troll. Run!" He scooped up Orcrist and grabbed her hand to make sure she wouldn't fall behind his longer strides while they ran. Due to the weight of his armor, however, she ended up having to pull him a bit. But it didn't seem to make a difference. When she looked back, the troll was still giving chase and it had gained on them a great deal.

"It's no use," she said. She released Thorin's hand and turned to face the beast. "I'll bring it down. You kill it," she instructed.

"Din, no!" Thorin called after her. But she was already sprinting to meet the troll head on with her sword burning white-hot. Once she had a straight shot she leapt as if to dive at the ground and once again shot fire from her feet. It propelled her under the swing of the troll's mace and through the gap between it's legs and as she passed, she used her sword to cut through one of its legs. It cried out and fell to the ground with a thud while she landed in a puff of snow. She heard it give another cry and she turned to see Thorin pull his sword back out of the monster's mouth. It slumped dead to the ground.

"Where did you learn that trick with your feet?" The dwarf asked as he clomped over to help her up.

"In a fight against a rather nasty Nazgul," she explained. "Is there nothing but snow here?"

"There's a mountain range that way, but a majority of the orcs head there."

"We might find the stones there. It's worth a look, anyway. It's either that or we search through all this snow. Do they leave you alone when you're dressed like one of the orcs?"

"Sometimes."

"Alright, let's go.

* * *

Din found armor that fit along the way after one of their skirmishes. It had taken probably two days' journey so far, but with no sun to guide them she couldn't be certain. They didn't get tired or cold in this place the same way they did in the real world. They had to stop so she could rest, but they didn't need sleep. It was more as if, unlike him, her soul had to remember that she could not get tired. It seemed the only way to die here was to be slain. An endless battlefield. The snow had in fact finally stopped, which made it much easier to hear each other as they trudged through the stuff. She explained the events of the War of the Ring to him along the way.

"And this ring belonged to Bilbo?" Thorin asked for clarification.

"He found it in the goblin cave. It was what allowed him to be so stealthy the rest of the journey."

"How has Bilbo fared all this time? Did he plant that tree?"

Din smiled. "He is old. He always talks about our journey when I see him. He actually wrote it all down, it's quite a good read. And yes, he planted it. The tree has grown very tall. He will be happy to see you."

"And what of you? You do not seem happy."

Din halted her trek and stared down at her feet, drawing in a deep breath as Thorin stepped up to her side. "I _am_ happy, I just . . . I'm so sorry . . ." Thorin seemed at a loss for how to respond and the howling of the wind filled the silence between them. He looked around curiously.

"Do you hear that?" he asked.

"It's just the wind," she offered.

"No," he said pensively. "It almost sounds like . . . someone singing?"

Din creased her brows and listened closer. He was right. It was a delicate humming, celestial and beautiful as if they were hearing the music of light. "The Silmarils," she breathed. "Arthenon always said that it sounded like singing, back when he could still sense mine. If we're hearing the stones then we must be getting closer!" The little dwarf practically bounced up and down in anticipation. They followed the sound and indeed, a mountain range came into sight. It was massive, and like everything in this place seemed to, it stretched as far as the eye could see. The snow had resumed its torrent, so they sped up their pace to find the channel of caves Thorin had found before. Luckily, the snow seemed to have driven the orcs inside, so they had peace while they searched. The song of the Silmarils had stopped, however. It seemed that the stones had only responded to their dour moods like a beacon of aid.

"The caves are there," Thorin called over the wind as they sprinted around a ridge in the range. It was, as he had described, a channel of caves. She didn't stop to count how many there were since they littered the mountainside, high and low. She lit her sword to look inside the first she passed just around the bend of the ridge, but it sloped too far upward for convenient travel, despite how massive the hole was.

"There is warm air in this one," she noted, holding her arm inside. Even the snowflakes that landed inside melted almost instantly. The air probably warmed up inside from the high elevation and then traveled down, still hot. She couldn't tell how high up the cave went, but the passage grew narrower as it went. Thorin extended his arms inside as well and grinned.

"I haven't felt warmth in such a long time," he said. Suddenly, the air began to draw back into the caves, even though the wind was blowing in opposite directions. An impossible inkling tugged at her gut and she ran her hand along the rim of the opening. "It's odd, isn't it? How cleanly cut the opening is. It doesn't appear natural." She trudged backward in the snow to get a better look at the cave and realized there was another almost identical cave about forty or fifty yards away on the curving mountainside. Gazing up to it's snow covered peaks until it disappeared into the haze of snow, she noticed a straight line of of impossibly large spikes. They ran along the spine of what she now saw as a gargantuan creature the size of a mountain. The two identical caves weren't caves at all. They were nostrils. The movement of air inside suggested it was in some sort of pseudo-hibernative state. But if they didn't need sleep, then perhaps it had just gotten bored after all this time?

"Thorin . . ." She could barely get the word out. She could now hear the melody of her Silmaril, coming from one of the nearby caves to ease her fear. Thorin turned in confusion and trotted over to see what she saw. "It's a dragon," she breathed. At first he didn't seem to agree. Then she heard his breathing become shallow, but couldn't pull her glance away from the monster to look at him. The only dragon she had ever heard about anywhere near this size was Ancalagon the Black from the War of Wrath in the First Age. Gandalf had told her that he had been so large that when he was slain and fell from the sky, he had crashed into a volcanic mountain range. It had caused a chain reaction that destroyed the entire northwestern hemisphere of Middle-Earth.

Thorin's fingers found hers and tugged her toward the nearest tunnel. The Silmaril's song was echoing inside. The Arkenstone must have been calling him as well. The rocks were slick inside and she had to catch herself before she tumbled into Thorin. Since she didn't have her stone, Din willed her magic into her sword until it glowed white hot. It wasn't much light, but it was enough to see by. It was unsettlingly quiet inside. They dared not break the silence, either. The orcs had to be hiding somewhere, but as long as his sword remained dark they were safe. The tunnel seemed as if it would go on forever with its endless twists and turns, but eventually it opened up onto a small landing overlooking a massive chasm. Somehow, a splattering of light seeped through cracks and gaps in the ceiling of the mountain high above but it wasn't enough light to let them see how far down the chasm went.

"Din, they're here," Thorin whispered. She turned to find his sword illuminated in blue light. The scurrying sounds of a horde approaching through the tunnel drew her attention and she looked back in time to see a helmeted skull swinging toward her on a string of sashes, somehow fastened to the roof of the tunnel. She didn't have time to react and it collided with her face painfully. The blow knocked her to the ground and since there wasn't much ground behind her, she slid over the edge of the landing. A sharp rock bit through her glove as she managed just in time to get a grip before she tumbled too far down, but the jarring motion nearly pulled her arm from the socket.

"Thorin!" She called up to him when the sounds of a fight started. It startled her when a hand reached over the edge to grab her. The orc's eyes, beady little orbs in the dark, glared down hatefully, but instead of forcing her to fall the creature began to pull her back up. A few others helped and she was quickly hauled into a mass of angry bodies. A hand gripped her hair while others kept her at a kneeling position and another gripped the hand in which she held her burning sword. The orc directed her sword until the light illuminated Thorin, also being restrained. Orcrist lay glowing on the ground. A sword was being held against Thorin's neck and cold steel was pressed against hers moments later. If either tried to fight back, one or both of them would be killed.

One of the orcs began snarling words she didn't understand above her head. " _What?_ I can't understand you," she snapped.

"It would seem that you killed them," Thorin explained. Din rolled her eyes and took a deep breath. Fantastic. The orcs started bickering among themselves, likely about which of them would receive the honor of lobbing off her head. Thorin glanced down at Orcrist and Din tried to shake her head. The orc holding her hair mistook this as an attempt to free herself and tightened its grip until she winced. It was too risky to try to fight their way out just yet. But then again, what if they didn't get a better chance? She was contemplating how best to disarm the orc holding the blade at her neck when she noticed Thorin tighten his hands into fists. He was going to make his move.

What she did not expect was the loud cracking in the rocks below Thorin. His captors released him in shock and he thrust his fists to the ground. A loud rumbling filled the space as heavy rocks around Din fell from the ceiling and killed some of the orcs holding her down. This would have been a relief if the rocks underneath Thorin hadn't also crumbled. He and his orcs tumbled into the darkness below.

"No!" Din cried out.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

There was no doubt in Din's mind that Thorin had caused the rockslide. Was that the magic the Arkenstone gave him? The power to manipulate the very earth? Regardless, she needed to find a way down to make sure he was alright. The serenade of her Silmaril had become ambient noise at this point, also singing from down below. She turned her fists on the orcs behind her who had not been killed by the falling rocks and roasted them with fire. Fortunately, using her magic so constantly did not wear her down here as it did in Middle-Earth. She sprinted to the spot he had fallen. The ground sloped down at a fairly steady decline, so she dropped to it and stooped with one foot far ahead of her to allow herself to slide down. Her blade lit the way until the mound of fallen rubble came into view.

"No," she murmured, her voice quivering. Terror gripped her at the thought of coming this far only to lose him again. She braced herself against the mound when she reached the bottom and peered up at the heep with no clue where to start looking for him. "Thorin?" she hollered uselessly. Suddenly a pebble pelted her head and she readied her blade to face whoever had knocked it loose. But no one had. The smaller rocks were loosening themselves of their own accord and tumbling to the cave floor like a clatter of hail. Then the rocks at the top of the pile began to shake. The lass had the presence of mind to shield her face before an eruption of rock and dirt blew down the side.

Orcrist clattered to the floor, no longer glowing, as Thorin tossed it out. He began coughing and gasping for breath as he pulled himself from the rubble. "Thorin!" she cried rushing to help him. She dragged him free so he could lay flat on the ramp to rest and sat beside him. With her elbows propped on her knees, she covered her face with her cold hands. Warm fingers brushed onto her forearm, but she refused to let him see her face while she was trying so desperately not to cry.

"I apologize," he said softly. "I did not mean to frighten you. I meant only to bring down more rocks around me, but I do not yet have control of this." His fingers left her arm, replaced with cold air. Finally she uncovered her face. Thorin was using what light her sword gave off to stare pensively at his uplifted hands. "I always thought it was just this place giving me magic; That my penance for my greed was to continue to slay these creatures for eternity. If there had been any other way of escaping back there, I would have been content never to use what that cursed stone gave me ever again. . ." Finally she uncovered her face and bridged her propped knees with her arms so she could rest her chin on them. The fact that the Arkenstone now held so much grief for him, reminding him of his failings, was painful to see. Especially since he would have no choice but to accept the stone to be free of this place.

"We could stay here . . ." She hadn't meant to voice the thought aloud, but Thorin's chuckle warmed her heart. She knew it was a foolish idea, one that they could not actually follow. He sat up and took in a deep breath.

"No. This is no life for us, constantly under threat of attack from an ever-growing horde of monsters." He pushed himself to his feet and Din followed suit. Thorin recovered Orcrist from where he had discarded it and they continued on. There was no sign of more orcs or even goblins in the dank cavern. They were not at the bottom, in fact, merely another level. Din trotted over to the edge, Thorin close behind. She hadn't actually expected to be able to see the bottom, but a glowing light miles down brought a gasp to her lips.

"Is that a tree?" She breathed.

"It's enormous."

"I think the orcs have been building stairs to reach it." Rough stairs had been carved into the wall, winding clumsily down. Eagerness encouraged them to move quickly, but the path often became dangerously narrow so they had to be careful not to trip. Especially since Din could now see enormous spikes sprouting from the ground around the tree almost like a cage. Slipping at the right trajectory would end in impalement.

Din thought back to the tale Elrond had told her about the Silmarils. He had told her more the second time they met, when she was part of the Fellowship. He had even shown her a painting depicting the fall of Melkor when he had stolen the stones for himself and became Morgoth, whom Sauron had once revered and molded himself after. She recited the story to Thorin, as he had likely never heard it.

When they finally reached the bottom, they carefully scrutinized the monstrous spikes, taller even than the tree. "They're metal," Thorin observed incredulously, touching one as if to prove it to himself.

"No . . ." Din gazed around at the lot of them pensively. "It couldn't be. Why does everything have to be gigantic?" she groaned.

"What do you mean?" Thorin asked.

"We're on top of his head," she muttered. Thorin removed his hand from the spire of Morgoth's helmet and stared in wonderment at the ground beneath them. This was where the Valar had entombed their former ally, punished by forever being within reach of the stones he so desperately desired but never able to claim them.

Pondering on the evil entity below them would get them nowhere. She turned her attention to the tree. It was not one tree, but two that together had more or less grown into one. They were bigger than they had looked from above and bathed them in a warm white light. Now that they were up close Din noticed three orbs in its branches that could have been mistaken for fruit, but were in fact the Silmarils. They were larger than the ones they knew. Was this their original state?

"That must be the other stone." The third Silmaril was an azure blue as if it were truly a piece of the sky. This was the stone Eärendil had used to sail to Valinor. The stone that imbued his ship with flight and allowed him to slay the mountainous dragon up above them. Or perhaps Eärendil had used his magic to carry the boat on the wind?

"So, how do we go about this?" Thorin asked.

"The first step will probably be to touch the stones. The next part you won't like." She met his gaze uncertainly. "You can't resist it's bond."

Thorin closed his eyes and drew in a breath, then looked up to the Arkenstone. Determination hardened his blue eyes. He began to unfasten his armor. The miscellaneous metal pieces clattered to the ground and then he pulled the chest piece over his head. He wanted more mobility, she knew, but the abruptness of his dismantling made her fluster nervously. "Alright. Come closer," he murmured in his deep voice. Din stepped over to his side, glad that he was too preoccupied with preparing himself to do magic to notice the reddening of her cheeks at the way he had phrased it. "This will be easier than attempting to climb the blasted thing. Brace yourself." She bent to one knee, readying herself while he rolled up his sleeves. Thorin closed his eyes and motioned as if to reach down and grip the ground. The muscles in his arms were flexed and tensed as he hesitated. Was he thinking about how he had caused a rockslide when he only intended to bring a few rocks down from the ceiling?

"You can do this," she offered. Thorin took a steadying breath and then lifted his arms as if lifting invisible weights. The ground beneath them shot up as a pillar of rock until they were close enough to reach the branches thirty yards over their heads. They split up to find their own Silmarils. Din found hers higher up. She used the tree's large branches to hoist herself up. They were easy to stand on given their size. When she pulled herself up to the branch below her stone, she could easily look upon it dangling from a stem. It was very large. There was no doubt that if it was hollow, she would be able to curl up inside it. She gazed warmly into its depths as if looking into the face of an old, dear friend. She had never named the stone, always being unsure what sort of name would befit a magical rock. Looking at it now she had a sensation of hearing its name, as if she had only forgotten it. Naira. Heart of Flame. It was an Elven word, she was sure, but that made no difference to her. It was the name the stone accepted.

But she could not leave until she was certain Thorin had safely left. Din looked around for him until she found his bottom half far down below, the top obstructed by a branch. She crouched to find his face. "Are you ready?" She asked. He looked up to her, anxiety deepening his features into a frown.

"You should go first."

"I'm afraid that's not how this works. Either you go first, or neither of us goes," she replied. She heard him snarl in frustration when he turned back to the Arkenstone. Slowly, tentatively, he reached up and placed his hands on it. Nothing happened, but neither expected it to. Thorin's shoulders tensed. She could see him thinking, warring with himself and denying the bond he likely did not believe he deserved. A ball of emotion swelled in her throat at his grief.

"It wasn't your fault, Thorin. You struggled against an illness that claimed your grandfather and probably your father, too, but you _won_. The Arkenstone should not be a sign of your failure, but of your strength. That's why it bonded to you." He dipped his head down at her words and his arms shook as he gripped the stone tight. The colorful light inside started to flicker brighter. "If you cannot forgive yourself, then let me do it for you," she said. She realized it was not just his arms that shook. His entire body quaked. Not from gripping the stone too tightly. He was crying . . .

The light was flickering inside with each sob, brighter each time until brilliant light pulsed from it. She covered her eyes so it wouldn't blind her. It gave another pulse, this time releasing a shudder through the cavern. The tree shook violently and she almost didn't catch herself when she toppled from the branch. Luckily, the large rivets in the bark made for excellent handholds. She looked over to make sure Thorin was alright, but he wasn't there. He had gotten out. A joyful sob escaped her. He was free.

The tree continued to shake, but she was able to swing back and forth enough to gain enough momentum to swing back up on to the branch. A loud crack burst from her left as a large boulder smashed through some of the other branches. Several more followed around her. The pulse from the Arkenstone was bringing the cavern down. And to her horror, the light from each broken branch became extinguished. If the light went out of Naira's branch, she probably wouldn't be able to escape. She crawled forward on the branch so she wouldn't fall off by trying to walk. Once she was beneath Naira, she fumbled to her feet and desperately grabbed the stone. She pressed her forehead to its cool surface and pinched her eyes closed against the bright pulsing light. An odd sensation of displacement overtook her.

* * *

Din gasped for breath and braced herself against the bed beneath her as if expecting it to fall out from under her. She was not in Thorin's tomb as she had been when she had gone under. She had been moved to the infirmary. And she was most certainly not alone. Many people were swarmed in on her, Fili and Thorin included. And there was Belmeana and Kili. Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur. Also Jorn, Relin, and even grumpy old Orthis, along with a small host of the city Guard.

"By Mahal, she's awake," she heard Fili exclaim.

"Din!" Came Thorin's deep rumble.

"Give her some air, all of you," Gandalf's order boomed over the rest and the mob retreated a bit. Gandalf stepped forward to check her vitals, but she shook her head and sat up.

"I'm alright," she assured them all. A string of questions around the room grew into a flurry of words she couldn't understand. Fili pulled Din to her feet so he could hug her and the moment he released her Belmeana latched on.

"You were unconscious for several weeks!" she sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Meana," Din muttered.

"I can't believe you did it!" She continued. "It's really _him_." Din looked around and found Thorin, Fili, and Kili conversing by the foot of the bed, though she could not hear them over the loud chattering of the bewildered onlookers. It appeared Fili was giving introductions. Thorin stepped forward and embraced his great-nephew, who jumped in surprise but returned the favor. Fili beckoned Din and Belmeana over, beaming joyfully. Din couldn't bring herself to look at Thorin. A tightness formed in her chest and a rush of emotion brought tears to her eyes. Meana started pulling Din toward them, but Din wouldn't move.

"I can't," Din said. "This is all a bit much for me right now. Tell them I'm sorry." Meana rambled confusedly after her, but Din hurried through the mob of guardsman and infirmary nurses and fled the room. Luckily, no one came for her in her quarters for a couple of hours. She sat in her window and watched the sun go down and a blanket of stars started glittering in the midnight blue sky.

Din sniffed and buried the lower half of her face in her arms which were wrapped around her knees, trying to ignore the gnawing guilt in her stomach. Tears remained neglected on her face. The cold air seemed to help her keep most of her remorse and shame on the inside. Someone cleared their throat in the doorway and she turned to find Thorin, naturally. He no longer wore the kingly attire he had been buried in, but a white tunic and brown cotton trousers. She jumped to her feet, embarrassed for him to find her crying. Thorin stepped slowly into the room, looking around at the small space she called home. The moment his back was turned, she dabbed the water from her eyes with her sleeves.

"When you distanced yourself from me in the Void, I assumed you were . . . spoken for. It _has_ been eighty-three years, after all. I thought you just didn't want to talk about it knowing that I still. . ." He trailed off and lifted the small drawn portrait of himself from her desk. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment again. She couldn't see his face, but he stroked the frame with his thumb, understanding what it meant that she had displayed it all these long years. "But Fili tells me this is not the case." Din avoided his gaze when he set the portrait down and turned to look at her. She kept her eyes firmly fastened to a chipped brick on her floor when he walked over and stood _so_ close. His fingers sent tingles through her when they brushed across her neck and into her hair and suddenly fresh tears threatened to escape her, so she pinched her eyes closed.

She took a step away from his touch. She did not deserve it. "I failed you. How can you not hate me?"

"You fought bravely against Azog. You did everything you could."

Din shook her head and turned away from him to pace the length of the room. "That's not what I'm talking about. I gave up on you, Thorin! I've had dreams about you in that place, but I thought it was just my mind tormenting me, imagining you in danger again. Had it not been for Gandalf, I would have forsaken you to that place forever. I can't forgive myself for that." As she spoke, it became more and more difficult not to cry. But she refused to cry in front of him. He held her arms as she passed to stop her from pacing. Her breath caught when pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers, his lips only a breath away. She could feel her heart beating quickly in her chest.

"I was dead and you had no logical reason to suspect otherwise. If you can't forgive yourself, then let me do it for you." A sound between a laugh and a sob bubbled from her lungs at hearing him use her words. His fingers wove into the hair at the back of her neck once again and his lips met hers. Din couldn't bring herself to pull away this time. She lost track of how many heartbeats they remained like that. When they did part, neither seemed to be able to stop smiling.

Thorin pressed his forehead to hers again. "I've waited nearly a century to spend my life with you. I swore that, if by some miracle I made it back to you, I would wait no longer. That is, if you would have me."

Din's eyes widened. "Are you asking what I think you're asking?" Her heart began to beat faster and faster. Thorin smiled.

"Yes, I'm asking." How peculiar for the man to propose. _What would people think?_ She thought with a laugh. Due to the lower female population, a dwarf-lass normally has their pick between several suitors so it is normal custom that _she_ be the one to propose. A calmness settled in Din's heart as she lost herself in his blue eyes. There was never any doubt what her answer would be. Her mother would be overjoyed.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Watching Richard Armitage in BBC's "North and South" has made me fall once again in love with Thorin. The sickness is back! ahahaha

Chapter 5

Everyone was abuzz with news of the coming wedding, both with gossip of awe at Thorin's return to life and to the unnatural nature of the wedding. As Thorin's father was long since passed, he was not exactly present to make sure Thorin had provided a good place for them to live, as he otherwise would have. So, the task actually fell to Fili, much to his bemusement. In reality, Fili had to find somewhere for Thorin to live, anyway, due to his sudden return, so by selecting it it was already approved. Fili found it incredibly hilarious to be making such decisions for his uncle, regardless.

There was much grumbling about Din, only some of it in awe. While there were dwarf-women who applauded her strength to fight gender-specific roles, many felt she was stepping out of her place by assuming role as Guard Captain. So when word got out that Din would accept no acquired sum from Thorin, many began to gossip about the legitimacy of the wedding. She wasn't refusing just because he no longer had any gold to offer, but because it felt wrong to accept payment for her betrothal to him. Having the chance to spend her life with him after everything that had happened was enough for her. Much to her chagrin but to her mother's insistence, she handmade her own dress as was custom. Her mother and Lady Belmaena helped, as well, given the short time before the wedding.

A celebration had already been planned for Thorin's return, and since anyone Din would have wanted to invite to her wedding would already be present, the wedding would take place then, rather than waiting a year as was custom. The invitations had already been sent several weeks prior and people would be arriving any day now. Din couldn't wait for Thorin to meet the friends she had made through the war. And, of course, there was the matter of a very special guest, whom Din had been ecstatic to receive an attendance notice from. Bilbo would be overjoyed to see Thorin.

Despite her joy, a growing sense of trepidation had befallen her. Her dreams were either filled with empty darkness or they returned her to the moment that the light in the Trees of Light began to extinguish. She told herself it was foolish to worry. The Trees had only been an illusion of their former selves. The real Trees had been destroyed long, long ago before Morgoth had come to Middle Earth. But reminding herself of this did not help her sleep at night.

She rubbed her tired eyes. Morning light was beginning to peek over the top of the mountain behind her, illuminating the field before her in a wondrous alpenglow. Young Relin had come to relieve her of her post during the evening and she had used the time off to rest and change into more casual clothing for receiving her guests. The sound of a horn had blared before sunset, signalling the arrival of an important envoy in Dale. Now that morning was coming, that envoy would likely journey to Erebor so she had resumed her post. She eagerly wondered which of her friends had arrived. It had been far too long since last she had seen them. She was staring so hard at the city that it startled her when Thorin appeared in her peripheral.

"Are they arriving?" He asked, smiling at her excitement.

"Someone is. Or, they will be." She tapped her fingers anxiously on the rampart and chewed on her top lip.

"Why so nervous?"

"I have gained many friends through these long years. Especially during the war. Some of them you . . . may not agree with."

Thorin placed his hand on hers to stop her from tapping. "You've told me that this saved your life. As long as he keeps his green food to himself, he is welcome to come." Only a _slight_ growl accompanied his words.

"I told you his role during the war, but I did not tell you who he is. You will not like it," she said. Thorin's brows scrunched. She was speaking of Legolas, not Arthenon of whom Thorin would also disapprove. She had been unable to contact Arthenon since his departure. Given how adamant he had been about keeping his distance, even if by some miracle he heard about the wedding in his seclusion he would likely not attend. But the son of Thranduil, one of Thorin's sworn enemies, would most certainly attend.

* * *

 _TA 3018, Rivendell_

 _Before the Council of Elrond and the creation of the Fellowship_

The scruffy beard tied to Din's face caused an insufferable itching as the course horse hair scraped against her skin. She dared not remove it, however, for fear that elves may travel past and see her. It was by miracle alone that she had not compromised the secrecy of dwarf women during the quest for Erebor. She reached underneath the scruffy mass to scratch her jawline and a hearty laugh burst from Gloin. In the 78 years since Erebor had been reclaimed, his hair had almost completely grayed. He blew a ring of smoke from his pipe, nestled comfortably against the crook of a boulder.

"Leave it be, Lass. You'll only make it worse."

"I cannot understand how you men deal with this everyday," she grumbled.

"We sprout it naturally, of course." From his perch on a sturdy log, Gimli looked over and pulled the smoking pipe from his mouth. He motioned for her to lean closer to share a secret. Any advice to ease her suffering would be welcome, so she moved in. Instead of sharing the secret to beard care, Gimli released a puff of smoke in her face. She pulled back in a fit of coughing, much to his amusement, but she managed to remain upright on her rock. Din sent him a withering glare through the little cloud. He was oblivious to the peril he had placed himself in. She swung her fist out and slugged him in the chest as hard she could, a blow that knocked him from his log and flat on his back into the dirt. His head peeked over the top, eyes wide and startled.

Gloin roared with laughter again. "Careful, Lad, lest the 'Dragon Rider' breath fire on you."

"I cannot breathe fire, Master Gloin," Din corrected. She smiled at mention of her title. Few outside the dwarves these days knew that the fabled "Dragon Rider of the Lonely Mountain" had been a young lassie.

"Rest up, both of you. That blasted bear lost us time and we must leave at first light."

Din chuckled. "He was only trying to be hospitable. He was kind enough to replenish our supplies. You know as well as I that he could have very easily eaten us instead." Grimbeorn, son of Beorn, was the new chieftain of a group of people who now lived in Beorn's pastures, calling themselves Beornings. The three of them had nearly run out of food by the time they traveled the long way around Mirkwood. He had even agreed to take care of their ponies until they could return for them after Elrond's meeting.

"Well, he nearly did," Gloin said gruffly. Amusing dreams of Gloin and Gimli running from the large bumblebees of Beorn's pastures replaced the dreams she often had of Thorin fighting for his life in a winter wasteland. The rising sun woke her the next morning and she and Gimli began packing up to give old Gloin a little more time to slumber deep. The pass through Caradhras was a slow journey, but they encountered no stone giants and the goblins had retreated too far into the mountain after the death of their "king" to notice the presence of three dwarves in the caves during nights. They were certain to keep quiet just in case. Rivendell came into view during their descent back into warmer climate. The sun was setting when they began to cross the elegant pale bridge to enter Elrond's hold. The pink of the sky painted the scene around them with rosey hues that turned the already sublime setting into a warm beauty she could hardly comprehend.

Not surprisingly, they were not the first to arrive. The elven envoy sent from Mirkwood had not needed to venture around the blackened forest so even though they had departed after the dwarves, they had arrived a week ahead of them. Figwit showed the dwarves to the quarters that had been set aside for them and Din gratefully dropped her pack onto the stone floor the moment the door was shut behind her. Now that she was alone the beard only lasted a few more moments before she enthusiastically untied it. She flopped onto the bed and stretched her stiff joints across its plush surface. Warmth enveloped her from the windowed wall at the head of her bed and she draped an arm over her eyes. The silence of the room began to lull her to sleep when the door was pushed open.

"Leave me be, pest" she mumbled drowsily, thinking it was either Gloin or Gimli.

A laugh drifted about the room. "That hardly qualifies as meeting again under 'friendlier circumstances'."

Din bolted upright. Legolas smiled from the doorway, leaning on the wooden frame. When last she had seen him, his features had been hardened by his difficult life. Now, his features were softened. He had found some semblance of peace over the last 78 years. Unsure what else to say, she merely said, "Hello, Legolas."

"What brings the 'Wyrm Slayer' to Rivendell?"

"I did not do that alone," she corrected. "And you know very well why we are here. Shut that door before someone else sees me." She gestured to her bare face and the elf smiled. He stepped into the room to shut the door. Not what she had intended. The journey had left her exhausted and wished to be alone to rest. Legolas leaned against the wall beside the door as if to give her as much space as possible in the small room. If he was intent on staying, she had several questions. She idly picked loose fluff off of the wool blanket so as not to meet his eye. "How has Tauriel fared since . . .?" She did not need to finish her inquiry. Legolas's glance turned down to the floor.

"I have not seen her since she left after the dwarf's death."

Din glared. "Kili. His name was Kili."

"My apologies." Sadness pinched his lips into a frown. "I meant no offense. I simply could not recall his name. Please accept my condolence also for the loss of your king."

Din frowned down at her hands. "Thank you."

"There is someone here whom you should come and visit."

"Oh?" Her curiosity piqued.

"He is an elderly hobbit I believe you are acquainted with," he explained. Her giddiness showed in a wide grin that made the elf chuckle. "Worry not about the beard. As with last time, your secret will be kept safe. At least until the men from Gondor arrive within the week." With that he lead her off to see Bilbo.

* * *

"Thorin?" Din peered up at him, his gaze locked on the plain below. The dwarf's lips were tightly pursed together beneath his black beard.

"I will be civil if he will. And as long as his wretch of a father is not present also."

"Of course not. His father was not even invited," she said in a tone that suggested this should be obvious. The decision to omit the Elvenking had not been one of spite. Relations with the elves of Mirkwood had improved greatly ever since Legolas's involvement in the war. Thranduil had even sent a letter of congratulations, but had not asked to attend. While Thranduil's priorities had shifted during the war, he knew Thorin would be of the same mind as he was before his death. Din gave Thorin's hand a squeeze. "Things are changing. Slowly, mind you, but changing nonetheless. The war showed many that allies are not so common that we can hole up in our homes and refuse to lend aid to those around us and simply expect someone else to arrive when we are in need of it. When Dol Guldur attacked the Lonely Mountain several years ago, both Dale and the elves of Mirkwood sent forces to aid us. If Fili had not returned the white gems Thranduil desired or had refused to help the men of Dale rebuild, they may not have and I would have had no home to return to."

"It is a relief to know Fili did not follow in my ill-conceived footsteps." Thorin leaned on one of the large bricks of the gate and dipped his head forward. A deep frown etched into his tired face. Din gently cupped his face with her hand and stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Are you still struggling to sleep?" She asked. He did not answer, but she knew the answer was yes. He closed his eyes to savor her touch. Her heart ached desperately to help him. He would not need to sleep alone for much longer, but until the wedding passed he would have to continue his transition from fighting an endless battle to returning home on his own, despite how it pained for her to leave him to it.

"I am no stranger to the restlessness of war," he said. He pushed the exhaustion from his face and Din laughed lovingly.

"You are the most stubborn dwarf I have ever met." A mischievous grin played at his lips as his blue eyes slid to her, sending a flutter through her stomach. It was moments like this that she could truly see the resemblance he shared with his nephew. Movement caught his attention and he looked back out to the plain. Din found a troop of ponies riding toward Erebor, a few of which were pulling a carriage behind them. The lass heard herself squeak and hopped up and down in joyous excitement, much to Thorin's amusement. The small dwarf unfastened a horn from her hip and blew into it to announce the arrival of the guests. Another horn echoed her bugel from above, louder.

By the time the company neared, Fili and his family, along with Bofur, Bombur, and Bifur and a portion of the city guard had joined the pair at the gate. Three familiar hobbits waved enthusiastically up to them from their ponies. Din grabbed Thorin's arm and tugged him back inside toward the ladder to meet the company below. Pippin and Merry dismounted as soon as she came into view and sprinted the rest of the way. Laughter bubbled out of her and she ran to meet them. The flurry of their greetings were impossible to discern but the pair scooped her up to twirl her around. They radiated with laughter and nearly fell over, so they lowered her back to the ground.

"Can't risk breaking the bride," Merry jested.

Pippin straightened nervously and elbowed his friend. "Merry, I think that's him," he whispered as if to warn the troublesome hobbit to be on his best behavior. Din looked over her shoulder. Thorin walked calmly toward them and she extended a hand to him, which he accepted. Their fingers laced together, his thumb caressed her skin.

"Merry, Pippin, this is Thorin Oakenshield. Thorin, meet Merry Brandybuck, Master of Buckland, and Peregrin Took, Thain of the Shire." Thorin bowed in greeting, a favor the halflings returned. Sam finally rode up to them, having stopped to make sure Merry and Pippin's ponies didn't wander off. They now trailed behind his pony. Din beamed at the small child sitting in front of Sam. Her blond curls bounced with every step the steed took. Sam dismounted and lifted the small girl into his arms and she bashfully looked away from the strange people in her company. She was perhaps two years old.

"It's good to see you," Din smiled. "Where is Rose? And this adorable creature must be Elanor."

Sam chuckled and nodded. "Rose is home nursing our son, Frodo. She was unable to make the journey so soon after giving birth." Din introduced both to Thorin as well. Mention of Frodo drew her attention to the carriage that was pulling to a stop. Frodo's head of dark brown curls popped out the window to flash a smile at everyone and he opened the door. Turning to reach back in, he carefully aided an elderly hobbit out of the carriage. Emotion brought tears to Din's eyes. Bilbo looked around until he found both her and Thorin and smiled so wide that it looked painful.

"My old friend," Thorin muttered fondly.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Sorry if the lack of action in this chapter seems a little dull. The next one will be more eventful, I promise. ;) The new character name in this chapter is pronounced "Day-see" with a hard "s", not like "daisy".

Chapter 6

Guest quarters resided outside Erebor. Small structures had been built across the mote so that, if any outsiders needed to visit Erebor for some reason, they would not need to invade in the privacy of the Dwarven halls. As improved as relations among the races was, the dwarves still wanted to protect the sanctity of their kingdoms and the identity of their womenfolk. Thorin, Din, and Bilbo had adjourned to a small withdrawing room in his and Frodo's quarters so that Bilbo could rest after his long journey while they spoke.

"I still can't believe you are alive after all this time!" Bilbo exclaimed. His elderly frame looked even smaller and frailer since last Din had seen him and his snow white curls bounced atop his head. It would appear his age had finally caught up with him. The three of them had adjourned to a comfortable withdrawing room while Fili personally showed the others to their quarters.

"How have you been, my friend?" Thorin asked.

"Just splendid. I have spent the last six years living in Rivendell. Oh, how I love Rivendell."

An amused noise escaped Din and she glanced sidelong at Thorin, who pretended not to notice. Thorin and Bilbo spoke for over an hour while Bilbo filled him in on the events of his life, big and small. Din sat bundled in a cushioned two-seating settee beside her betrothed and eventually found herself drifting to sleep to the low tones of Thorin's voice. When she awoke, her ear was resting against his shoulder and his blue eyes drifted to her, sparking with a glint of amusement.

"Good morning."

Panic struck and she straightened. Morning? There was no way they had actually sat there for over twelve hours. "What?" She exclaimed. Thorin shook with laughter

"Worry not, my dear," Bilbo said. "It has only been a few hours." Din glowered up at Thorin, who merely smirked in return. "How big was the beast?" Bilbo asked.

"Larger than a troll, that's for certain. Maybe twenty feet. I knew this monster would be what finally brought me down."

The old hobbit was on the edge of his seat with anticipation. "Was it a troll?"

"Some variation of it, though it was a simple beast. Couldn't speak like the trolls I've encountered before."

"Frodo tells me that the three trolls we encountered after you recruited me are still there, made of stone."

"After all these years?" Din asked with a chuckle?

He nodded. "He said your axe is still embedded in one of their heads. A popular perch for birds, certainly."

A pensive look crossed Thorin's features and he draped his arm across the back of the settee to turn more in her direction. "I also noticed your sword still melted into the wall of the gate where you leapt off. You seem to have a bad habit of leaving your weapons as permanent fixtures."

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "What better way is there to make sure people will tell stories? Mysterious artifacts are wonderful tools for creating legends."

"Speaking of mysterious artifacts, you did not finish your story, Thorin!" Only then did Din realize that a palm-sized stone was shining faintly in Bilbo's hands, glittering with a thousand faceted faces. "He was telling me about the time the Arkenstone's magic first manifest itself to him in the Void."

"A story I have not heard myself," she noted.

Thorin nodded and resumed his tale. "It is normally dim there, but the sky was impossibly dark already. Were it not for the light of Orcrist, I would have been blind. Try as I might, the beast overpowered me at every turn. It appeared to have been born without eyes and so it had no trouble listening for me. I was flat on my back and it lifted it's crude mallet to finish me. Instinctively, I covered my face with my arm when all of a sudden this pillar of earth shot through the snow and struck it in the jaw; snapped its neck."

"How long did it take you to learn to control the magic?"

"This incident happened maybe ten years ago, though I cannot be certain of time in that place. For a long time I was not even certain I was actually doing it and it took even longer to learn to do it on purpose. As Din can attest to, I still cannot control it completely." The warrior rubbed the back of his neck, his dwarven pride slighted. He was comparing his own learning curve with hers.

"Earth is an unyielding element," she observed. "Flame can be ignited by a simple spark. It takes much more effort to will the ground to move. In time, I have no doubt that the ground will stand no chance against your stubbornness." Din grinned up at him. Her jesting brown eyes found a profound depth in the endless blues of his eyes that she could not read. The moment was interrupted when the door was pulled open. Bofur rushed in out of breath and hysteric about something.

"Din! Come quick, it's Thes. She has read the contract!"

He was speaking of the wedding contract. Din knew exactly what her mother had found and what had her uncle in such a tizzy. Sadness eclipsed the jovial air she had carried since Bilbo's arrival. A foolish part of her had hoped this would be a conversation she would not have to have with her mother, that it would somehow get glossed over without notice. Fingers found hers and Thorin gave a comforting squeeze.

"I will come along, if you wish it."

She shook her head. "No, I should speak with her alone. Stay and talk with Bilbo." She pressed her lips gratefully to the back of his hand and then let go.

* * *

In her family's halls, Din found Thes pacing the distance of their dining table. Din's and Thorin's wedding contract was clutched tightly in her hands as she buried her nose in it, reading. Feeling very small, she stepped cautiously closer to her. "Mother?" she questioned.

Instead of answering, Thes began to read a piece of the contract aloud. "'If unfortunate circumstances should befall both parties that result in their untimely deaths, all inheritance will fall to Thes, daughter of Nimros and Nes, who now resides in Erebor in the Lonely Mountain. If at this time, Thes has already passed, the inheritance of Thorin and Din will then be divided among their closest living relatives.'" Her mother stopped pacing to look over at Din, her hazel eyes glistening and confused. "Explain this to me."

A dwarven marriage contract, as well as being a written statement of the pair's vows on how they will take care of each other, also acted as a will to state that whatever money they had would be passed on to their offspring if both parties should perish. Offspring Din would never have. The contract was not private, so logically, Din knew Thes would find out eventually. She took a deep, calming breath and lifted her tunic to show a crescent pattern of badly torn puncture scars that wound in a semi-circular pattern from her sternum and disappeared below the waist of her pants. Thes gasped and clasped her hands over her mouth and Din looked at the floor as she spoke.

"During the battle at Minas Tirath, I was snatched up by a fellbeast. It took elven magic to save my life and when I awoke the elves explained the extent of the damage."

"Why have you never told me?" Thes asked.

"First by refusing to look for a husband, then running off on an adventure and returning alive only to be too broken-hearted to want marriage, then running off to war and return to defy our traditions by becoming guard captain . . . I have disappointed you at every turn. When you realized I would not marry anyone who was not Thorin, I never thought about children. And then after the war I thought, 'if this has to happen to someone, why not someone who will be alone, anyway?' But now that I am finally getting married like you always wanted, I must disappoint you yet again. I cannot give you grandchildren . . ."

Thes's eyes grew soft and her lip wobbled. "Oh Din . . ." The small dwarf jumped when Thes rushed forward to hug her. "You have _never_ been a disappointment, do you hear me? You have protected our people in a way no dwarf woman has ever dreamed and no mother has ever been more proud than I am of you." A sob escaped Din and she wrapped her arms tightly around her mother's middle. Thes abruptly parted from her and gripped her shoulders tightly.

"Thorin knows, doesn't he? If he casts you out for this, I will bury him myself-"

Din's laugh broke the tension. "Of course he knows. He was there when we had the contract written up. I told him while we were still in the Void."

"Of course." Thes pressed a hand to her forehead as the obviousness of the answer struck her. In the distance a horn blared, signaling the arrival of more guests. How polite of them to wait to arrive until after they had resolved the issue, Thes smiled. "You have more guests to accept."

* * *

An envoy from Gondor had arrived and, as he had been nearby in the guest quarters, Thorin had already come out to meet them. When Din arrived, he and Legolas were staring at one another with hard expressions, their arms stiffly crossed over stubbornly puffed up chests. Aragorn, adorned in regal attire and his crown glinting brightly in mid-afternoon sun, stood beside Gimli. Neither seemed sure what to do. "Oh no . . ." she sputtered under her breath as she sprinted to Gimli's side.

"Neither has said a word," the stocky red-head whispered gruffly.

Din matched their stance. "Thorin, remember your promise." His glance slid to her, his lips pursed. The moment the bear's attention was drawn away, Legolas pounced. He clamped his hands onto the dwarf's shoulders and let out a laugh as it startled him.

"I have heard much about you. Many congratulations are in order," the elf said with a smile. Thorin was stunned into silence by his former enemy's cordial attitude. While Thorin recovered from the whiplash of the situation, Legolas turned to Din. He howled with laughter, finally noticing the fake beard strapped to her face, and clamped a hand to his gut as he struggled for air. She rolled her eyes. Before his friendship with Gimli he never used to laugh so raucously.

"You've spent too much time with Gimli," she observed.

Gimli chortled and a startled noise escaped Din as he scooped her into a hug, her feet dangling off the ground. "Welcome to the family, cousin."

She burst into laughter. "That did not even occur to me! My family is growing so much larger now." Gimli set her down and King Aragorn extended his arms in a much more civil offer, which Din accepted despite how it made his guards flinch. When they parted, Legolas had moved in for a hug as well. He seemed to have recovered from his bout of dwarven behavior and did not pick her up as Gimli had.

"It's good to see you," she said.

"And you as well." He pulled back and looked anxiously over his shoulder at Thorin, who was clearly trying not to scowl.

"Aunt Din!"

Din leaned to peer around her elven friend and spotted a pony trotting exhaustedly toward them. Elation swelled in Din and she sprinted around Legolas and past a confused looking Thorin. Though Din was not actually an aunt to Fili's children, after the wedding it would no longer be an honorary title. The dwarf riding in front was large in stature and his white beard billowed behind him in the breeze, the sun glinting brightly off the top of his bare head. Though he was now quite old, Dwalin was still not a dwarf to contend with. A smaller dwarf peeked around his back, her pale face disguised by a fake red beard as Din's was. The girl slid from the pony and easily outmatched it's slow pace, running to meet Din. They nearly tackled each other in a tight hug and fell into a fit of giggles.

"It's been so long!" Daesi exclaimed."

Din pulled back and the girls clasped each other's arms."How did you like the Glittering Caves? What about Ered Luin?"

"You understated the size of those glowing crystals in the Blue Mountains. I thought they would be as big as my head, but some were almost as tall as the gates of Erebor!"

"Well if I told you how large they were, you wouldn't have been surprised. I wouldn't want you to be disappointed. The point of your venture was to see the sort of wonders the world has to offer. Did it sate your appetite?"

A broad grin stretched the girl's pale face. "Not nearly." Din chortled and clamped her hands on Daesi's shoulders.

"The lass has an unquenchable thirst for the world that could give yours a run for it's money," Dwalin called over in his thick accent. Now that his pony had caught up enough, he lowered himself from its back to lead it along. The girl laughed but her expression turned sheepish when she looked over to Din's company.

"Is that him?" she whispered. Thorin was watching them but seemed content to let them have their reunion in privacy. Din smiled and took her hand to pull her over to meet him.

"Come on. Thorin, this is Fili and Belmeana's daughter, Daesi. Daesi, this is your great-uncle, Thorin," Din introduced them. Thorin smiled down at the girl and bowed in greeting. Daesi's bashfulness ebbed and she stepped forward to wrap her arms around his middle in a warm hug. Thorin was startled at first but returned the gesture, his features softening. Behind Din, Dwalin breathed a dwarven expletive.

"It really is you!" Up close, Din could see how age was starting to wear on him, but he still stood straight and tall, his shoulders massive and his muscles bulky. Daesi released Thorin so Dwalin could take her place and Din pulled her away so they could talk. Looking to Din's friends, the bridge of Daesi's nose scrunched in confusion. She knew Gimli, of course, but the other two, as well as Aragorn's honor guard, were all strangers.

"The human is clearly the human king, but who's the elf?" Aragorn and Legolas paused whatever conversation they had been having to look over."

"She has your tact," Aragorn noted amusedly.

Din chuckled. "Yes, this is King Aragorn, and this is Legolas from the Fellowship. I've told you of him."

"Ah, yes, the one who's score you beat during Helm's Deep. Forty-three. Ha!" The dwarf lass scoffed at Legolas's score. "What did you get again? Eighty-four?"

"Eighty-six," Din amended.

Legolas crossed his arms, his lips pinching. "Are you certain she is not actually yours? The resemblance is uncanny," Legolas jousted. Din lobbed a sass-induced glare at him, drawing a hearty laugh from Aragorn.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Consciousness pulled Daesi's mind from dreams of endless plains, enchanting forests, and sparkling night skies. The familiar surroundings of stone walls and dim lighting awaited her when she lit the candle on her bedside table. Despite the cold nature the peoples of Middle Earth attributed to the dwarves, her room was full of comfortable furnishings. A fine spun rug of entwining swirls and filigree covered most of the space and several drawings of faraway places were hung on the walls. Since she was a child her favorite was one that depicted the Shire. Her father and Din often spoke fondly of the time they had spent there after Erebor had been reclaimed; of the kind people and of course of dear old Bilbo.

It had taken much convincing for Din to persuade Fili and especially Belmeana to allow Daesi to accompany Dwalin on his journey to the Glittering Caves and Ered Luin. Altogether it had taken almost a year and a half and in that time she had learned more about the world than during the entire 62 years she had spent in Erebor prior. And although she was overjoyed to once again be with her family, she longed to see more of the world.

Laughter echoed from the dining room, drawing her from her reverie. Familial love lightened her heart and she quickly rose to get dressed. After spending the past year and a half wearing trousers, she opted to avoid wearing skirts for a while yet so she slipped her nightdress off and pulled on a pair of trousers, a soft silken peach colored tunic and wrapped a matching flowing fabric around her middle that draped down her backside to emulate a skirt. After yanking a brush through her tangled red hair, she deemed herself presentable and scampered out to see her family.

The spacious dining room was well lit by sconces scattered about the walls. Three heads of blond hair swiveled at her entrance and Kili chortled. He, Fili, and Belmeana sat clustered at one end of the long table enjoying a lunch of roasted lamb, ham glazed with rich honey, a delicious smelling seasoned potato and garlic soup and enormous bread rolls.

"You finally decided to join us, then? It's midday!" Her brother teased.

"Oh, leave her be. She had a long journey and I can't imagine sleeping on the ground is very comfortable," Belmeana scolded. She returned to the hearty lunch she had no doubt prepared herself and skewered a piece of with her fork. Daesi sent Kili a snicker and he glowered down at the table. What had him so upset? Belmeana beamed and pulled her daughter into a side-embrace as she sat beside her.

"Do you have any plans for today?" Fili asked.

Daesi scoffed as she filled her plate with food. "Of course not, I've only just returned."

"I only ask because as of today the quarters Thorin has been preparing for himself and Din will be complete." An elated grin stretched across the little dwarf's face but, with a laugh, Fili held up a hand before she could squeal. "As you know, this means she will need to stay in her family quarters until the wedding can take place next week. You are probably the only person she would not thump over the head for going through certain belongings of hers and we need them moved to her new home."

"Of course I'll help."

Fili smiled. Finished with his lunch, he pushed away from the table to attend to his duties. As he passed her, he leaned down to kiss the top of her head but mussed her hair as he pulled away.

" _Father!_ " she complained. He bellowed as he clumped away.

* * *

"If you don't get down from their, the guards will each have a heart attack," Kili prompted. Daesi ignored him and the half a dozen guards trailing behind them and continued to hop across the disconnected stones of the walkway railing as if they were stepping stones in a pond. Down below she could see dwarves working about the enormous forge like bees buzzing around a beehive. She actually knew what that meant now! Bees, that is. They were terrifying little creatures but watching them work was fascinating.

"So, are you going to tell me why you and mother are fighting? That is why you looked upset when she scolded you, is it not?"

A sign reverberated from deep inside Kili's throat. "She'll use any excuse to scold me. Any excuse to remind me she's angry."

Daesi frowned and hopped down to walk beside her brother, clasping her hands behind her back. "Why is she so angry with you?"

"Father has agreed to let me join our forces. Neither Mother nor Aunt Din are happy about it."

"Even Aunt Din is angry?"

His green eyes sunk to the floor to watch his feet as he marched. "I don't think she's angry, exactly, just sad. She tried to talk Father out of it. I understand why she wants to keep me safe but I've dreamt of leading an army ever since I was a small boy!"

"Give it time. You just need to show her that you're not a whelp anymore. Put those skills you've always showed me to use for a change."

He thumped her lightly on the shoulder. "And what about you? Did you practice at all on your journey?" He lowered his voice as he spoke so the guards would not hear.

The dwarf lass scoffed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "As if I need practice to keep up with your lazy rump."

He reached over to pinch her arm and she danced away in a fit of giggles. Din's quarters were tucked in the east wing at the front end of the hold, close enough to the main gate that she would be able to respond should anything unfortunate happen that required her immediate attention. Her rooms were small. Daesi was certain she could fit the entirety of the space within her own bedroom. There was not even a table for eating! Din had never complained, however. More often than not she ate meals during her shift. On the nights where she watched the main gate she would have food brought to her. Otherwise she would usually try to find a spare few minutes whenever she had downtime from other duties like training new recruits or overseeing security matters around the hold. Her dainty living quarters were mostly used for sleeping.

A pile of empty crates cluttered the floor at the foot of the bed and Daesi busied herself by organizing her soon-to-be Aunt's belongings into them. As it was considered rude and inappropriate for a male dwarf who was neither directly related to or a spouse of Din to poke through her private things, even for such a task as packing, Kili had simply tagged along to keep his sister company and to catch up after their long separation. He flopped lazily into a chair in the corner and picked idly at his nails. While she worked he filled her in on the happenings around the keep in her absence. The scandals, those who had died of old age or accidents in forge. One of Daesi's friends, Tali, had even gotten married to a young guard named Relin! She would need to stop by their new home and congratulate them.

Daesi filled the first two crates with Din's clothing and set them aside so she would remember to have them delivered to Bofur's rooms. Otherwise, Din would have nothing to wear over the next week. The sappy romantic in her also convinced her to sneakily tuck the drawn portrait of Thorin inside so that Din would still be able to see him while they spent the week apart. They had spent enough time away from each other, already. Next she packed up the books, and various scrolls and maps Din had collected over the years. Her veritable collection of weapons, Dwarven, Elven, and even Orcish, was more difficult. In the end the lass individually wrapped the half a dozen swords and knives stashed about the room in linen and then bundled them together with thick twine.

"Jorthin?" She called out to the door. One of the guards marched into the room and pressed his right fist to his chest in proper solute. His bushy black beard reached below his belt and his brown eyes appeared beady behind his bushy brows.

"Yes, Lady Daesi?"

"Could you please have your men carry these three crates to the quarters Master Thorin has prepared? And these two here need to be brought to Master Bofur's family rooms."

Jorthin nodded and turned to the door. "I'm sure you heard that, laddies. Get in here and help me transport these crates!" He ordered. Daesi grinned as the five other guards sauntered in and scooped the crates up as if they were full of pillows. Jorrin himself carried the bundle of weaponry. As they filed out, Daesi searched about the room to be certain she had not left anything. She even went so far as to check between the frame of the bed and the mattress to be certain no more knives had been hidden there. There had been three already.

"Do Father and Mother know that you keep a dagger in your bed as well?" Kili asked from his chair.

"Of course they do. They do no know of the sword Aunt Din passed down to me, though." Fili had allowed Kili to train her only so she would be capable of defending herself. Neither her father, mother, or even Din would approve of her using her skills for anything else. Like fun, for instance. Unlike her brother who had journeyed to Ered Luin several times before the war, Daesi had been stashed away for most of her life to keep her safe from such things as abductions for ransom. Until her trip with Dwalin, she had not actually stepped outside of Erebor.

"You know, you never told me why Din decided to let you go on your journey."

Daesi chuckled. "She says she was my age when she started to get restless. She did not want me to feel cooped up." The lass straightened, having found nothing more in the mattress, and pulled her wavy red hair over her shoulder to pull it off of her sweaty neck. She turned to her brother as a gust of wind swirled behind her so roughly that she was sent careening several feet away and landed poorly on the floor with a surprised yelp. The agonized cries of an injured man filled the small space and she faintly heard Kili swear. Back beside the bed, two elves had appeared out of thin air! One, with dark hair and sad blue eyes, was knelt beside his injured companion on the floor. The injured elf's mousy brown hair and pale skin were drenched in sweat. At first glance it appeared that he had his injured arm tucked underneath the other, but in fact his right arm appeared have been cut off just above the elbow! Linen wrappings that had been hastily applied were coming loose and the wound had bled through.

The girl gaped stupidly until she heard Kili draw his sword and hurried to her feet. Once she was there, however, she was uncertain what to do next. Kili leveled his sword on the elves, standing protectively in front of her.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded.

The dark haired elf looked up at them in apprehension. "Where are we?" He asked. He then muttered something in Elvish to his friend. Through the elf's strangled cries, she gathered the word "Erebor" and the dark haired elf's eyes widened. He spoke again but the injured elf seemed to ignore him and instead looked to the dwarves.

"Find Din! Tell her they know!"

* * *

The wedding was in a week. Din and Thorin would not see each other again until then and custom dictated that neither do any work during this waiting time so Guardsman Orthis had stepped in as temporary Guard Captain. In the meantime, Din was to remain in her family's halls. It had only been a couple of hours and she was _bored out of her skull_. She was lounging on a couch while Bombur snored in a large chair beside her. He had fallen asleep some time ago and she did not have the heart to wake him for conversation. Not for the first time, she debating committing her journeys to paper, but she did not possess Bilbo's skill for words. Not to mention her penmanship was illegible. She dropped the idea and pushed herself into a seated position on the couch.

"Ah-ah, what do you think you're doing?" Thes frowned at her from the doorway to the kitchen. She had started preparations for lunch.

"I'm only going to look for a book to read, mother." Din strolled to one of Bombur's bookcases and thumbed through his collection. In the distance, she heard someone shouting through the halls and peeked at the door curiously. Even Thes popped her head out of the kitchen once more. As the voice grew closer, Din recognized her name and hurried forward. The door was thrown open and Daesi sprinted inside. The lass's features were so flushed that even her freckles were hidden.

"I did not know what else to do!" she said breathlessly. "Two elves appeared in your room and one of them is badly injured. He keeps insisting that we find you and tell you that "they know". Din gasped.

"Stay here. I will send guards to escort you back to your family rooms." She held up a hand to stop the girl's refusal. " This is no time for arguing."

* * *

Back in her private quarters, Din found Kili with half a dozen guards all pointing swords or bows at a pair of elves by her bed. Her eye was drawn immediately to her friend and more importantly to his amputated arm. It had likely been cut off to disarm him. A dark haired elf was kneeling at his side. The Elvish he was muttering indicated he was casting some sort of magic, likely of the healing variety.

"Lower your weapons, I know him." She pushed her way through the small crowd and knelt at Arthenon's other side. "What happened to you?"

His features were contorted in a pained grimace, his hair clung to the sweaty sheen of his skin, which was paler than it should have been. "I'm sorry. They have not been fooled. And now they know where you are. I'm so sorry . . ."

Din shook her head and grasped the one hand he had left. "Don't be. You have put yourself under far more risk than I ever had the right to ask. And who are this?"

"His name is Maglor."

Din felt her face go slack. "M-Maglor?" She sputtered quietly. The dark haired elf stopped muttering and his blue eyes moved to her. "Wasn't one of Fëanor sons named Maglor?"

Maglor glanced up wearily. "Yes."


End file.
